Page 3 of Demetri
Unfazed by my presence, she stands. "Dorogoi, you've been away for months, and this is how you greet me?" she lurks around the corner of the desk like a snake after its prey stopping in front of me. The smell of her expensive, heavy perfume fills the air around me. Leaning in, she places her palms on my chest. "I miss us," she pouts.
I may be ruthless in many things I do in life, but hurting a woman is not one of them. Although Ivanna tests my ability to keep my anger in check, I calmly remove her hands from my body and walk around her taking my seat. "Leave, Ivanna. We have nothing to say to each other." I notice immediately the sting of my rejection written all over her face and the flirty demeanor she was exuding changes quickly.
"You smell like a cheap woman."
"The only woman I've been near recently is you." I raise a judgmental brow in her direction as I lean back in my desk chair. Ivanna saunters across my study and retrieves a cigarette from her clutch sitting on a small table near the minibar. I watch her light it and take her first drag.
Ignoring my demand for her to leave my home, she takes a seat in a brown leather chair behind her. I continue to stare at her as she crosses her legs. She is far from the type of woman I am attracted to. Ivanna is thin — too thin. I want something to hold on to. She's a tall woman with straight blonde hair, which is not her natural color and her eyes are dark; like her soul.
Her eyes catch my inspection.
"You like what you see?" she runs a hand between her petite breasts. Again, not what I want in a woman.
"I don't have time for your games, Ivanna, so spit out the reason you have disobeyed my rules," I start to grow more impatient as the seconds tick by.
"Can we not be enemies anymore, Demetri? I want us to start fresh. Bury the past. I've grown tired of the distance you have put between my son and me."
"The things you have done — the destructive role you played a part in can never be undone," I grow angrier. "Distance and what little kindness I choose to show you because you are our son's mother is the only reason you are not buried in the past and rotting alongside my father in a shallow grave where you belong. And as far as Nikolai goes, he is a grown man and heir to my Empire. He makes his own choices, and he decided to cut you from his life, not me. Perhaps if you had been a loving, caring mother, instead of putting your own wants and needs ahead of his, he would see you differently, but lucky for him he sees you for who you truly are."
Quietly she sits and snubs her half-smoked cigarette out in the ashtray on the table and silence fills the room. Vivid memories of my first love start to play like a movie reel in my mind. Ivanna's family and my father stole everything from me back then. They schemed to take the life of the woman I loved and my precious son. I was going to leave all of this — my entire life behind for happiness, and they stole it from me. Ivanna weaseled into my life. She plotted and planned right along with my father and hers to keep me here, and they killed to do so. Her hands are covered and stained in the same blood as my fathers. I will never forgive her.
"Demetri."
"Enough," I roar, cutting her off as I stand from my chair. Rage radiates in waves through my body. Her presence has thrown me back into a dark black hole. My study door opens; Victor takes two steps into the room and takes in my appearance. I'm on edge, and he knows it. He knows if he doesn't remove this bitch from my sight, I will kill her where she stands. Walking across the room, he grabs her by the arm and guides her to the door. Before the door closes, I inform him. "If she steps foot into my home again—" I leave my sentence hanging, but he more than understands.
"Yes, sir."
Needing to channel my rage, I head straight for my gym located in the opposite wing of the house where my bedroom suite is also located. After I have shed my suit for sweats, I hit the weights before moving on to the treadmill. Keeping myself fit is essential, but it also has become a way of maintaining self-control over the years. It helps me focus. I'm on my fifth mile running when Victor makes his presence known. Slowing down my speed, I finally come to a stop. Grabbing my towel, I wipe the sweat from my face and down half a bottle of water. "What is it, Victor?"
"There is an issue in the city that requires your presence, sir."
"I'm aware I am late for my own meeting. They can wait." I finish the rest of my water and start to head toward the shower.
"Yerik Petrov has just been found; shot dead in his hospital bed."
I pause. My grip on the towel in my hand tightens.Fuck.Yerik was the last thread keeping the peace between the two families. "We leave in thirty minutes. Make the call."
2
Glory
"Miss Keller," the deep voice in front of my desk asks.
Peering up from the stack of papers I'm grading, I give Jackson Owens, the seventeen-year-old student in front of me, my attention and glance over at his two buddies gawking in the doorway of my classroom.Straightening my back, I reach up, slide my leopard-print, cat-eye reading glasses off my face, and give him a sharp, no-nonsense look. "What can I do for you, Jackson?"
Giving me a dimpled smirk, which I'm sure makes every girl at Macon High swoon, but has zero effect on me, he says, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to tutor me. I really think my performance would benefit from some one on one lessons."
Leaning back in my chair, I let out a huff of annoyance. Cheesy innuendo. I swear these high school boys think they're so clever."What you need, Mr. Owens is a swift kick in the pants. Now, I suggest you and your friends run along before I'm tempted to do just that," I finish with a flick of my hand dismissing my student.
I don't particularly like teaching high school. When I applied for a position six months ago, the eleventh grade was all that was available. I began working at Macon Middle School straight out of college. Back then, I was teaching history to sixth graders. Now I teach eleventh-grade history at Macon High. I love what I do. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a teacher. In my opinion, middle school is the perfect age to teach. Also, I don't know how to act around little kids. They make me feel awkward. And don't get me started on teenagers. I have to ask Jesus every morning before work to give me the strength and patience I need for dealing with these kids. I mean, it's not like there is some unwritten rule about educators having to love children of all ages. I'm not saying I don't like all kids, because I adore my two Godchildren.
A few years ago, I dropped everything to help my best friend. Grace and I grew up together. She's more than my best friend; she's like a sister. So when she made the brave choice to leave her abusive husband; I didn't hesitate to help. I spent over two years of my life moving around from one city to the next with Grace's daughter, Remi. Grace was terrified her shitty husband would one day find her, so Remi lived with me, and Grace would visit as often as she could.
We never lived more than a few hours from each other during that time. I had argued with my best friend at first, insisting we stay together, but Grace chose to keep her distance to protect her child. Things worked out for my best friend in the end. The last town she moved to, she met Jake Delane. Jake happens to be the President of a motorcycle club, The Kings of Retribution. Jake and his club along with Demetri Volkov put an end to Grace's sorry ass husband and his family. Now she is living her happily ever after with Jake in Polson, Montana, along with Remi and their new baby girl Ellie, just as she deserves.
Thinking about my best friend and her new family also has me thinking about him — Demetri.Demetri Volkov is the most arrogant, controlling asshole I've ever met. Never mind the fact I have to change my panties every time he's in my presence.Dickhead.
I'll never forget the first time I met Demetri. It was a couple of years ago. I was still living in North Dakota, in the apartment Remi and I stayed in before she went back to live with Grace and Jake. I had taken my Basset Hound Bo out for a walk, and when I returned to my apartment Ronan De Burca, Grace's husband was standing in the middle of my living room along with a couple of his goons. A chill runs through my body, and I shudder at the memory of the punishment I received at the hands of Ronan De Burca.
